Before I proceed to describe the progress of the labour dispute it is
essential to have a peep into the Ashram. All the while I was in
Champaran the Ashram was never out of my mind, and occasionally I
paid it flying visits.
At that time the Ashram was in Kochrab, a small village near
Ahmedabad. Plague broke out in this village, and I saw evident
danger to the safety of the Ashram children. It was impossible to
keep ourselves immune from the effects of the surrounding
insanitation, however scrupulously we might observe the rules of
cleanliness within the Ashram walls. We were not then equal either
to getting the Kochrab people to observe these rules nor to serving
the village otherwise.
Our ideal was to have the Ashram at a safe distance both from town
and village, and yet at a manageable distance from either. And we
were determined, some day, to settle on ground of our own.
The plague, I felt, was sufficient notice to quit Kochrab. Sjt.
Punjabhai Hirachand, a merchant in Ahmedabad, had come in close
contact with the Ashram, and used to serve us in a number of matters
in a pure and selfless spirit. He had a wide experience of things in
Ahmedabad, and he volunteered to procure us suitable land. I went
about with him north and south of Kochrab in search of land, and
then suggested to him to find out a piece of land three or four
miles to the north. He hit upon the present site. Its vicinity to
the Sabarmati Central Jail was for me a special attraction. As
jail-going was understood to be the normal lot of Satyagrahis, I
liked this position. And I knew that the sites selected for jails
have generally clean surroundings.
In about eight days the sale was executed. There was no building on
the land and no tree. But its situation on the bank of the river and
its solitude were great advantages.
We decided to start by living under canvas, and having a tin shed
for a kitchen, till permanent houses were built.
The Ashram had been slowly growing. We were now over forty souls,
men, women and children, having our meals at a common kitchen. The
whole conception about the removal was mine, the execution was as
usual left to Maganlal.
Our difficulties, before we had permanent living accommodation, were
great. The rains were impending, and provisions had to be got from
the city four miles away. The ground, which had been a waste, was
infested with snakes, and it was no small risk to live with little
children under such conditions. The general rule was not to kill the
snakes, though I confess none of us had shed the fear of these
reptiles, nor have we even now.
The rule of not killing venomous reptiles had been practised for the
most part at Phoenix, Tolstoy Farm and Sabarmati. At each of these
places we had to settle on waste lands. We have had, however, no
loss of life occasioned by snakebite. I see, with the eye of faith,
in this circumstance the hand of the God of Mercy. Let no one cavil
at this, saying that God can never be partial, and that He has no
time to meddle with the humdrum affairs of men. I have no other
language to express the fact of the matter, to describe this uniform
experience of mine. Human language can but imperfectly describe
God's ways. I am sensible of the fact that they are indescribable
and inscrutable. But if mortal man will dare to describe them, he
has no better medium than his own inarticulate speech. Even if it be
a superstition to believe that complete immunity from harm for
twenty-five years in spite of a fairly regular practice of
non-killing is not a fortuitous accident but a grace of God, I
should still hug that superstition.
During the strike of the mill-hands in Ahmedabad the foundation of
the Ashram weaving shed was being laid. For the principal activity
of the Ashram was then weaving. Spinning had not so far been
possible for us.